


Dog Days Are Over

by grimeysociety



Category: Real Person Fiction, The Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 04:15:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10801482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeysociety/pseuds/grimeysociety
Summary: It had been literally months since they’d last spoken, and although Russell had seen pictures of Noel occasionally, he wasn’t expecting the fuller face and arms or the slightly shorter hair.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2009.

I.

  
  
There was a flash, a buzz in Russell’s trousers from his BlackBerry and he only answered it because it was an annoying tickle on his thigh, distracting him from the task at hand – a blonde called Angela who was persistent and demanding him a dance. To Russell, the word _dance_ conjured up all kinds of potential embarrassment, and he only had to be encouraged to show off for him to be up, _strutting_ , or _boogieing_ , like something out of _Pulp Fiction_.   
  
“Tarantino,” he even said aloud as Angela tugged at his wrist again, before he opened the message which caused his heart to skip a beat momentarily:  
  


_Oi you._

  
  
The screen shone far brighter when Russell stared down at the surprising _Noel F._ labelled as Sender. Russell’s fingers flew over the device fluently to reply, only to be interrupted by a gasp from Angela, and a tap on his bare shoulder (it was that long-sleeved woollen robe thing that kept slipping from his shoulders; it was becoming a habit to wear it with dark shades, even if it was August, even if it was night time, and he was clubbing).   
  
“Fuck me!” Russell yelled immediately, throwing his arms around the man before him, forgetting Angela perched on the leather sofa. “Oh, mate!”  
  
Noel grinned from ear to ear, his hair characteristically styled, his complexion pale and unshaven. It had been literally months since they’d last spoken, and although Russell had seen pictures of Noel occasionally, he wasn’t expecting the fuller face and arms or the slightly shorter hair. He took him in, taking too long staring at him, and left Angela still sitting while the two men took each other in.  
  
“Uh, hello,” Noel said to her, waving awkwardly. “Noel.”  
  
They shook hands, and Angela gushed, “Of course. Angie.”  
  
She hung around while Noel drank pint after pint (“Apple juice!” Russell blurted with a giggle at the barman, who laughed, and brought it to him), but eventually Angela just left Russell her number and left in a huff.   
  
“Guess I ruined that for you, mate,” Noel said, unapologetic. He just kept grinning.  
  
“Well, if I get really lonely, I know you’re close again.” Russell raised his eyebrows suggestively, the flirting bringing them right back into their old routine – giggling, flirting, sharing food and fooling about they always had. On a superficial level, they were communicating again.   
  
Noel laughed again and placed his pint down – Russell could see he was steadily becoming tipsy – his eyes were beginning to glaze over and he kept playing with his tongue, and picking at his teeth with his fingers. His movements were slower and he looked almost sleepy.   
  
“Nah, no problem,” Russell shrugged, his fingers flying over his phone again and answering a text from another opportunity. “Rachel. You?”  
  
“Yeah, alright,” Noel murmured. “You up for it?”  
  
Russell suddenly felt as if he missed something. “What?”  
  
They hadn’t had a three-way in well over a year. The first time it had just sort of _happened_ – Noel had been shitfaced and Russell wasn’t embarrassed, and the girl luckily hadn’t blabbed.  
They never really spoke about it at all, for reasons Russell could never explain. However, it was always understood to keep it safe, but not necessarily clean, because it made it more fun to really _mess about_ – when everyone smelt of each other the next morning and Noel burnt the eggs trying to be hospitable and Russell wouldn’t mind kissing him if the girl asked them to, touching herself.   
It was never a big deal, which was the thing Russell liked the most about Noel; the simplicity of their relationship compared to others. They were instantly in step with one another, yet Russell felt like he’d been caught off-guard, like their threesomes had been some kind of an adult fairytale.  
  
“Come on, for old time’s sake,” Noel said, grinning like a naughty child. “But I’ll have to have a shot first.”  
  
“I’m flattered,” Russell said sarcastically, raising a think eyebrow once more. “that you have tequila before you to put up with my cock. The intimidation of it all, Noel, I tells ya...”  
  
“Au contraire,” Noel mispronounced quietly. “Tits and fanny _and_ cock...”   
  
Through the haze of booze, he sounded excited to Russell, at least for that brief moment.   
  
Russell didn’t exactly get stage fright, but he backed off once Rachel arrived at his place in Hampstead with her fishnets between Noel’s keen teeth. He kissed her feverishly, Russell handling her chest and his own cock with such expert speed Noel’s sluggish, drunken foreplay made him feel sad, for whatever reason. He found himself stopping and retreating to his Twitter for an hour, reading replies and sending the occasional semi-cryptic message:  
  


_Oh my dears the time I have spent with Noel Fielding has kept me up all night. X_

  
  
The press might say something about that, he hoped. They’d have a field day if he mentioned the girl...tempted, Russell’s fingers hovered above his laptop, only he heard a low groan from the living room that stopped him. The reminiscent sounds just a few metres away made him want to be sick, which in fact, he was, in the sink.  
  
  


II.

  
  
Russell sat in his bathroom for some time the following morning, occasionally vomiting and sniffling. A scruffy, shirtless Noel joined him some hours later, squinting down at him and rubbing his eyes.   
  
“Oh, Christ,” Noel shrunk away from the light that met his eyes and ducked too fast, leaving him to clutch his forehead. He knelt beside Russell, smelling of sweat and come.   
  
Russell didn’t say anything until Noel remarked, “I’ve always liked the black bowl.”  
He tapped the toilet with his knuckle, which Russell was half-holding onto whilst he watched Noel suffer under his hangover.  
  
“Never again,” Noel murmured, “at least not with tequila.”  
  
They laughed weakly at one another, and Russell lifted his spare arm to put around Noel’s warm shoulders. They sat quietly for a few moments before they remembered Rachel.   
  
“She left sometime after she woke up next to me. She must have absolutely flown out of there, ‘cause I remember she was gone even before I went to check on you again.”  
  
Russell felt a warmth inside his chest.   
  
“You right, mate? Something you ate, I expect.”  
  
Russell shook his head. “Nah. It was Noel.”  
  
They exchanged a look.   
  
“Gallagher. He sneezed on me the other night, the cunt. Donovan gave him a right nasty bug,” Russell could feel Noel moving to fiddle with a loose tile on the floor.   
Noel tutted.  
  
“Imagine, the poor tyke with something like this,” he mused, only to correct himself. “I meant Donovan, not Noel...or _did_ I?”  
  
They chuckled together, though it proved for both of them a painful experience.  
  
“This isn’t _fair_! I didn’t drink last night and I feel fucking hung over.”  
  
Noel grinned again. “Well, I think I’ll have to stay.”  
  
“Oh, I’m _flattered_.”  
  
Russell thought Noel had been only joking – it was a tendency of his to assume most comedian friends of his were permanently full of shit – yet he stayed for another two days, continuously at his side whilst he threw up into the dark toilet bowl hourly. Noel’s brow would furrow with concern so often it became his new face for Russell to remember as he sunk in and out of delirium. At one point, he felt his face held in Noel’s hands, his friend’s breath mixed with his own, able to taste him and his sharp scent – yet he dismissed it as his own imagination once more.   
  
Russell couldn’t keep fluids down, either – not even water – and one thing he knew happened was Noel’s assisting him to a cup of cold water with a straw he thoroughly searched for. He made sure Russell only sipped it occasionally (“Bossy little...” Russell muttered) and Russell said made a clumsy joke about not using a straw for anything other than heroin on past occasions, but Noel didn’t really laugh – he was trying to convince Russell they should go to the hospital, but Russell didn’t remember anything else.  
  
Some time on the morning of the their fourth day together, Russell had completely recovered, and found himself lying on his own bed with Noel’s head beside his chest – he’d fallen asleep on his knees next to the bed, watching over him during another bout of fever the night before. Noel stirred and smiled sleepily at Russell, retrieved his tea and felt his forehead habitually.   
  
Russell eventually batted him away, finding himself linger on Noel’s wrist with his thumb and forefinger. Admittedly, he’d got used to his presence.  
  
“This is the longest we’ve ever been together,” he babbled.   
  
“Yeah, been a busy year, innit?” Noel was smiling again, though there was a dismissive tone in his voice that made Russell suddenly regret saying anything. He was about to open a can of worms neither of them would handle like adults – why Russell had been so distinctly surprised to even hear from Noel in the first place, what they’d been up to without each other, how they’d been busy with other friends...  
  
Russell felt hollow as he watched Noel pull his boots on, replacing his sunglasses and ruffling his hair. He was readying himself to leave, and the grief was already spreading.  
  
Noel suddenly spoke as Russell led him to the door. He said something Russell had never heard him say before:  
  
“I’ll call you.”  
  
There was a distinct hope inside his chest, a kind of rising warmth from his stomach. For once, he didn’t have the urge to purge when he felt like that.   
He simply nodded, and felt Noel pat him quickly on the arm before making for his taxi.  
  
  


III.

  
  
Noel never called, only texted Russell a vague invitation to a night out. Russell tried not to come across as needy or overly excited when they agreed to meet at the same club as last time. Giggling ensued on Noel’s arrival, and Russell found himself waiting for Noel’s eyes to become heavily-lidded.   
  
By eleven, Noel was going along with Russell’s naturally flirty ways, and inviting a brunette back to Russell’s, motioning for more tequila, and silently agreeing with Russell that all three of them would come by the end of tonight.  
Russell practically skipped out into the street to hail a taxi, and could have clicked his heels. The brunette followed with Noel and made sure her tongue was in Russell’s mouth the majority of the journey home.   
  
Russell made sure he felt all the material he encountered that night – the girl’s silk skirt, lace knickers, her hair, her lips. He faltered as his hand brushed Noel’s back at one point. With his eyes closed, and Noel drunk, this was bound to happen, but Russell suddenly met with reality and his senses heightened and he came sooner than he wanted.   
  
He went unnoticed once more as he slipped into the next room and online. A girl from Bristol was demanding he wish her a Happy Birthday, which he did, before returning to the passed out pair in the lounge room. Noel was completely naked, as usual, and Russell covered him with a spare sheet.  
Some time in the night while Russell was watching TV, Noel woke, and gave him a cheeky grin.  
  
“I have this brilliant theory that if you’re up all night, you won’t get hung over the next day,” Russell said to him, waggling his eyebrows.  
  
“Oh, yeah?”   
  
It was perhaps the stupidest idea Russell had ever had, but Noel went along with it at the time; it was an excuse to go back out and dance with a young thing Russell could find among the crowds.   
  
This one was named Tanya, with long black hair and big brown eyes. She persisted, and eventually Russell left Noel alone to have a quick, sneaky shag in the ladies’ bathroom. Once they emerged, sweaty and smiling guiltily, Russell spotted Noel with a Heineken in one hand with his spare arm above his head. He was swaying awkwardly, wide-eyed and too suspiciously for Russell to pry for the first time.  
  
He squeezed through the throng of people towards him, and grabbed his shoulders to steady him.   
  
“Mate!” Noel yelled, jubilant. His face was red and beads of sweat hung on his forehead.  
  
He leaned in and kissed Russell messily on the cheek, and usually he’d follow suit, but as Noel left the small, wet patch on his skin, he felt marked with some kind of poisonous, lonely feeling.   
  
Something snapped, and Russell was panicky.  
  
“What’d you take?”   
  
This was all his fault – the suggestion to stay out, to be selfish and try to make the night last as long as possible. He’d tried so hard to keep Noel all to himself.   
Whatever had kept Russell from confronting Noel about his absence from his life disappeared, and he knew, without a doubt, Noel was not okay.   
  
And he couldn’t just disappear again.  
His fingers traced the fabric of Noel’s t-shirt, remembering it just being there. He had to keep that, because he didn’t know how much time they still had to share.


	2. Part 2

For the next few months, Noel accidentally-on-purpose misplaced Russell’s phone number and avoided most of Hampstead. It was an admittedly cowardly move on Noel’s part, but once Russell began to butt in, demanding if he’d been on poppers several times they’d been out together, Noel had to shut down and avoid the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
  
In fact, the nagging turned into fasting away the added stone that had made him look so different for the past year. He was back to small and skinny in tight red trousers and Julian started calling him about ideas for the phantom Boosh movie they’d been speculating for years.   
  
He even had dinner with Dee a couple times, and for once, stayed the night when she asked him too. Buzzcocks started something new for him, but still felt something crippled inside himself, and even though things were turning a corner, his breath was laced with Heineken by lunchtime daily.   
It wasn’t like Russell didn’t try to communicate, though. He’d send a daily text message, until they dwindled down to the occasional caller ID left as Noel ignored him.  
  
By October, Russell had met Katy Perry at the VMAs and Noel felt like it was another message from Russell splashed across tabloids all over the world.   
Noel stayed at Dee’s more, until she told him she couldn’t figure him out, because as much as Noel remained cheery on the outside, Dee noticed the distorted image behind his eyes. She told him they’d just be friends, like so many times before, but she seemed more dismissive this time. Noel bought a bottle of Absolut vodka that night and didn’t get out of bed for two days.  
  
Out of desperation, he called an old dealer, asking him round for tea. He couldn’t believe his social life had gone back to speaking the most regularly with people who just wanted his money for crappy semi-talcum coke.   
  
“Alright?” he greeted the shapes around him that were once completely visible.   
  
Julian was too busy with the kids, and writer’s block was settling in again. That was okay for Noel, because he was never inspired, anyway. Whatever he’d had complete inside him in terms of creativity was missing now, and he couldn’t figure out why. He considered having a mid-life crisis in the form of someone new from a club, but he felt himself running away the second they shagged, forgetting the girl’s name, fiddling with his fly and ducking out awkwardly into the night.   
  
Snaps of Russell and Katy together in the States annoyed the shit out of him. They looked so smug holding hands with straws to matching strawberry smoothies attached at their lips. Noel laughed cruelly; as if Russell had ever genuinely enjoyed one of those before. It was just as well he hadn’t called Russell, because it wasn’t like he was in the country, anyway. It wasn’t like he was thinking about Noel at all.  
Still, Noel found himself drunk-dialling Russell’s home phone at three in the morning, because he’d decided the night was still fucking young.   
  
To his horror, a female voice chirped as someone picked up: “Russell’s phone.”  
  
Noel dropped the receiver, sobering instantly, only to hear the voice faintly calling to him, until the dial tone silenced it.   
  
Noel didn’t mention the event to himself the following morning, and was only reminded of the unpleasantness when he saw several calls from Russell had been missed on his home and mobile phone.   
Not answering anything, Noel left to film Buzzcocks to return that night, a trespassing scarecrow there to greet him.  
He didn’t move to hug or kiss Russell hello, feeling for the key hole as he let them both into the untidy home.   
  
“What are you doing here?”  
  
When had Noel become so nasty? Or had he always been this way?  
  
“Decided to swing by, mate. See how you’re going. You didn’t reply to any of my messages.”  
  
Nervous laughter from Russell’s side, and silence from Noel.  
  
“How are you, mate?”  
  
“Yeah, alright, you?” Noel was reluctant to speak, but felt truly elated to see his friend after such a long absence.   
  
He tried to contain himself from...from what? He didn’t know what he’d do if there were no consequences. He hated this – whatever this feeling was that was slowly beginning to boil inside him.   
  
“Bit busy, yeah,” Russell murmured, reclining on the couch as Noel sat on the coffee table, pulling off his cowboy boots.   
  
It was so awkward, and Noel wondered how long he had to wait before it was acceptable for him to get himself a beer. Or maybe something on the rocks. Or just a bottle of something he’d left by the sink, if the ants hadn’t got to it.   
  
“Noticed you’ve got a new bird,” Noel muttered, ruffling his hair roughly until he was gazing at Russell through his fringe. “Or girl or whatever.”  
  
For some reason, he hated to hear himself talk, and he hated how Russell stared at him with such warmth and frankness. He grabbed a bottle of vodka from the freezer before Russell had the chance to speak. Delaying the Girlfriend Conversation as long as possible was fine with Noel. He returned with the bottle under one arm as he texted Julian a place for lunch the next day, trying to seem casual, but failing as he felt the vodka sink in so suddenly into his empty stomach and make him feel light headed with each clumsy step.   
  
“Yeah,” was all Russell could say.   
  
Noel saw him become instantly uncomfortable at the sight of the vodka bottle he placed between his lips, taking a gulp and placing it beside him on the coffee table. He made sure not to wince too distinctly, and turned back to his phone again, another tactic he’d learnt to avoid unpleasantness, or to avoid himself saying something stupid, even though now he could feel something rising up inside him like anger.  
  
“Noel,” Russell murmured, the last conversation concluding as abruptly as it had begun. “Noel.”  
  
Noel stopped pretending to text Julian and looked up at Russell. He immediately seemed much sadder than a few moments ago.   
More nervous laughter; soon there’d be a joke to cover up whatever insecurity Russell was sure to be feeling and Noel would pretend to laugh along with him. Maybe then he could ignore an ache somewhere inside him, and he could stop complaining.  
  
“I came here because...”  
  
For once, Russell seemed lost for words. What a blessed miracle in the awkward silence that settled on them. Noel avoided his gaze.  
  
“You called last night, well, Katy said it was you...but you didn’t answer my calls or nothing so I thought maybe –”  
  
“I didn’t speak to you then because she seemed too busy sitting on your dick.”  
  
The voice that suddenly erupted from Noel was cruel and sneering. Russell’s eyebrows bounced from his expression of confusion to anger in an instant.  
  
“Fuck you.”  
  
They’d never spoken to each other like this before. The vodka probably didn’t help Noel’s mood, and so he rose to hit Russell on the side of his head, not hard, but purposefully.   
  
“It’s not like that,” Russell hissed, clutching his ear. “I mean, it is, but...”  
  
Noel was now standing and ready to ditch Russell for a pint elsewhere. He didn’t want to deal with this shit, but Russell not hitting him back made him want to stay.  
  
“What else was I supposed to do when you don’t seem to care if I’m around or not anymore?”  
Noel stared at him, words fumbling in his mouth.   
  
“I was stoned half the time, Russ...and I was shy.”  
  
“Shy? You’re never fucking shy. And I know you weren’t. You’re just to fucking selfish to deal with maybe someone wanting to stay with you a bit longer than post-climax.”  
  
“You’re one to talk! Fucking commitment is like the plague to you. You can’t stand being suffocated, either,” Noel snapped back. “And it’s not like that! It’s ... complicated...”  
  
Ending a sentence with a cliché was embarrassing, but it was all Noel could manage to say.  
He didn’t feel brave enough to act, so Russell gave him the push he needed.  
  
“Noel, I love you.”  
  
“Russ –”  
  
Russell was suddenly up from the couch, and his lips crashed into Noel’s with such force something opened like an ear of corn. The burning was the longing Noel had felt for some time, and like lightning, his jacket and t-shirt fell to the floor as he undressed between their kisses. Russell grabbed his middle, pulling him down to the crouch, lying on top of Noel as they continued to explore each other’s mixtures of sharp edges and curves along their bodies.   
Russell eased open his mouth with a possessive tongue, and Noel heard himself sigh beneath him and felt a twinge of desire from his groin all the way to his flipping stomach.   
They broke apart with a short smack of lips, foreheads pressed together.  
  
“We can do this,” Noel murmured, probably saying this more to himself than Russell.   
  
His hand flew confidently to Russell’s fly, and he felt about his pants while Russell bit Noel’s neck feverishly.  
They kissed again more fluently, Noel snaking his fingers through Russell’s hair. Russell pressed Noel into the couch and replied, “I want you.”  
Like a slap in the face, Russell’s mobile began ringing. It was a Britney Spears ringtone, and Noel groaned at both the absurdity of it and Russell’s lips reluctantly pulling away from his.  
Noel felt like Russell had hit him back once he saw the name flashing on the phone just before Russell answered the call.  
  
“Hi. No, I’m here. Yeah.”  
  
Russell raked his fingers through his untidied hair and Noel felt foolish half naked and listening to his friend on the phone to his girlfriend.  
Noel felt his eyes sting, and he looked above to stop himself looking like more of an idiot.   
Russell hung up after a few more stunted murmurs into his phone. He turned to Noel with an infuriatingly guilty smile on his face.  
  
“S’pose you’d better go,” Noel muttered bitterly, moving from the couch to find his shirt, but Russell grabbed his shoulders from behind and hugged him, arms across Noel’s chest.  
  
“That was Katy’s mother. Wondering if I was here with you.”  
Russell turned Noel to him, stroking his cheek.  
  
“I left Katy...I mean; she left me, after I told her about wanting to bum you, et cetera.”  
  
Noel raised an eyebrow. “Et cetera?”  
  
“Well, if you let me. If you let me stay, it’d be for good.”  
  
Noel felt himself grin, finally feeling like his old self; a giggly school child full of ideas.  
  
“Shagger of the Year ready to settle down with a man, no longer bent on impregnating the female population?”  
  
Russell began to walk down the hall way to Noel’s bedroom, before he turned back to look at shirtless Noel, offering him his hand.  
  
“Et cetera,” Noel murmured, with Russell’s palm rubbing against his.  
  
It was slow, passionate, and slightly amateur. However, Noel discovered knowing what worked on himself was highly useful when shagging a man. Russell insisted he hadn’t done this before, so Noel just had to believe he was just an expert as he came hard and suddenly (with a yell) against Russell’s hip as he sat on his lap in the tangle of bed sheets. He was digging into Russell’s back with his fingernails so hard half-moons remained in his skin and so did the marks along Noel’s neck.  
  
There was a sense of relief as they lay together, chatting through the night. They no longer had to seek a feeling, a link that was missing before. Noel had recovered his sense of touch, in a way.   
  
“I love you, too,” Noel said sleepily to Russell as he lay in bed while Russell dressed again to leave.  
Although their night had been filled with love-declarations and shagging, responsibilities were calling them both. Noel needed to do more Buzzcocks and Russell had a deadline. Surely they hadn’t suddenly grown up?  
  
“I know, mate,” Russell said airily, pretending to roll his eyes. With a cheeky grin, he was gone, and only after some time did Noel notice there was a note under Russell’s pillow:  
  
 _CALL ME CALL ME CALL ME CALL ME CALL ME CALL ME I LOVE YOU._


End file.
